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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579545">just like dear old dad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/pseuds/Twice_before_Friday'>Twice_before_Friday</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Altered &amp; Extended - season 1 [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Conversations, Episode: s01e14 Eye of the Needle, Gen, Hallucinations, Stand Alone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:01:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/pseuds/Twice_before_Friday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gil, we saved the hostage and caught Cory before he could hurt anyone else," Malcolm says, keeping his eyes trained on the theatre below, forcing himself to watch as blood — so much blood — is suctioned from his father's chest cavity, just so that he doesn't have to look Gil in the eye and lie outright. "Can't we just call it a win for tonight?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Arroyo &amp; Malcolm Bright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Altered &amp; Extended - season 1 [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>just like dear old dad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, rewatching this episode I was captured by Gil's face when he came to talk to Malcolm. When he said "Kid, what happened at Claremont? Jessica stabbed him? You were there?", the look on his face was totally 'I'm not buying this bullshit for a second.' Besides, he didn't make Lieutenant for nothing. My money is on that he figured out what actually happened. </p>
<p>And so this fic happened.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I need you to come down to the hospital, Ains. It's dad. See you soon. Bye</em>
</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Malcolm disconnects the call as Gil walks into the observation room. In the OR below, Martin is fighting for his life, his chest cracked open to give the doctors room to suture and suction, to stem the bleeding and repair the damage that the ice pick inflicted on his father's heart. The damage that <em>he</em> inflicted on his father's heart.</p>
<p>He's barely managing to keep it together </p>
<p>"Kid, what happened at Claremont? Jessica stabbed him? You were there?" Gil asks, and Malcolm doesn't need to be a profiler to tell that Gil's not buying it.</p>
<p>Visions of thrusting the ice pick into Martin's chest flicker to life behind his eyes, and he'd swear he can feel the resistance through his arm all over again, the brief moment of hesitation before the blade pierced his father's skin and slid between his ribs, through layers of muscle, and into his heart.</p>
<p><em>Not just any part of the heart, my boy. You pierced the myocardium, a centimeter beneath the seventh intercostal, just as we intended,</em> his father's voice whispers to him, a note of pride mixed in with the condescending tone. </p>
<p>He shakes it off and swallows back the bile that rises to the back of his throat, focusing on his mother instead. </p>
<p>His mother, who is claiming responsibility for the act of violence that he committed.</p>
<p>"Where is she? Is she alright?" The pain that's in Malcolm's voice, that's written on his face, is enough for Gil to relent and answer the question.</p>
<p>"JT and Dani are talking to her down at the precinct," Gil says, understanding, like he always does, just how worried Malcolm truly is about Jessica. But that doesn't change the fact that Gil has a job to do, and Malcolm isn't surprised when Gil turns serious and adds, "And I'm talking to you. Now. What happened?"</p>
<p>"It was the only way," Malcolm says. The idea of lying to Gil makes Malcolm's stomach churn, so he sticks to the truth as best he can. It <em>was</em> the only way. Cathy Paul, an innocent nurse who was only trying to save a life all those years ago, was going to die — another victim of the Carousel Killer; another victim of the legacy Martin Whitly left behind — if Martin wasn't stabbed exactly like the killer demanded. </p>
<p>Malcolm is certain that another innocent life on his conscience might just be the final straw to losing the battle for his sanity. </p>
<p>And so he did what needed to be done.</p>
<p>Then Jessica, in her never-ending quest to make up for atrocities that were never her fault to begin with, insisted on taking the blame so that Malcolm would be free to hunt down the killer. To put an end to the latest chapter in the horror story of their lives.</p>
<p>Malcolm reluctantly agreed, knowing her confession would buy him enough time to find Cathy and bring the killer to justice. And it worked. They caught the killer and rescued Cathy, who was found shaken up but mostly unharmed, able to go home to her family and live another day.</p>
<p>That was worth whatever lies they had to tell. Whatever risks they had to take, even if the odds of success were against them.</p>
<p><em>Like threading the eye of a needle</em> Martin's voice comes louder this time, trickling like cold water down his spine.</p>
<p>It was worth it, he reminds himself.</p>
<p>But he didn't factor in lying to Gil when he agreed to the deception.</p>
<p>It hurts.</p>
<p>The case is solved and all that's left is to come clean and accept whatever sentence is meted out as punishment. He just needs to speak with Jessica and her army of lawyers first to discover how to do that without incriminating his mother.</p>
<p>In the meantime, he needs to be cautious not to say anything that might be used to implicate Gil in their lies. If the brass suspects, even for a moment, that Gil was complicit in the cover up of an attempted murder in something so public as this case — a case involving not one, but two killers, both intent on using the local news to further their agendas and play their twisted game of cat and mouse — they won't hesitate to hang him out to dry.</p>
<p>"Kid, you need to start talking," Gil says, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at Malcolm with a look that says he has no intention of putting up with any bullshit. After twenty years of acquaintance, Malcolm recognizes that he's going to be hard pressed to stall for any more time right now.</p>
<p>"Gil, we saved the hostage and caught Cory before he could hurt anyone else," Malcolm says, keeping his eyes trained on the theatre below, forcing himself to watch as blood — so much blood — is suctioned from his father's chest cavity, just so that he doesn't have to look Gil in the eye and lie outright. "Can't we just call it a win for tonight?"</p>
<p>It shouldn't come as a surprise, but Malcolm still deflates as Gil's hand lands warm and comforting on the back of his neck.</p>
<p>"Bright," Gil says quietly, giving a gentle squeeze to the tense muscles along his neck, "I've known you and Jess for decades, now. I know what both of you are capable of." Gil moves closer and shifts his hand to Malcolm's shoulder as he murmurs, "And exactly what Jessica is <em>not</em> capable of."</p>
<p>Malcolm's breath catches in his chest, his heartbeat pounding so loud that he's convinced Gil must be able to hear it from where he's standing.</p>
<p>"I don't—" Malcolm swallows hard around the sudden dryness in his mouth and throat, "I don't know what you mean." </p>
<p>The words feel like acid in his mouth. </p>
<p>"Right." Gil pulls his hand away from Malcolm's neck and Malcolm regrets the loss immediately. It's ridiculous, but it feels like a rejection. A rejection that he brought on himself.</p>
<p>"It's funny," Gil says, turning to face the operating room below, looking down on the proceedings with a grimace on his face and his hands slung casually in his pockets. "The lengths people will go  to for their loved ones."</p>
<p>Malcolm isn't sure what to say to that. He gets the impression that Gil has more information than he's letting on, but there's no way to know without tipping his own hand.</p>
<p>"Take Cory, for instance," Gil presses on, ostensibly unaware of the war that's waging inside of Malcolm. "More than twenty years after his wife's death, he was willing to sacrifice everything to avenge her."</p>
<p>Malcolm is certain this has nothing to do with Cory at all, but he's so mentally wrung out from everything that's happened today that he can't read between the lines quite as easily as he ought to. He hasn't slept well in days and the fatigue is picking the worst possible time to make its presence known. He can't seem to keep his eyes from occasionally drifting shut of their own accord, but every time they do, he's assaulted by memories of that conversation with his father back when he was a sophomore, and those memories bleed into and coalesce with the lurid remembrance of jabbing the ice pick into his father's heart today, all while a hallucination of the man stands watch, taunting, judging.</p>
<p><em>Well, I must say, my boy, good old Jebediah Waller had nothing on you. That local sheriff only survived by a twist of fate. A fraction of a percentage point of a chance that Jeb would hit the exact spot in the heart to avoid killing that man, and poor Jeb, well, he hit the jackpot. Nothing but dumb luck. But you, Malcolm...oh, you performed with surgical accuracy. Just like your dear old dad, after all, I suppose.</em> The spectre of Martin leans back against the slanted glass of the observation window and looks at Malcolm intently, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. </p>
<p>Malcolm jerks back, startling Gil, who looks at him with a deep concern that Malcolm tries his best to ignore.</p>
<p>"I'm fine," Malcolm says automatically, the words falling from his lips like a mantra. Some days, he even believes it's true.</p>
<p>Gil's lips draw in a tight line, clearly not buying into Malcolm's assessment of his own mental health at the moment. "Kid, your father is down there fighting for his life," Gil's hand sweeps out towards Martin's lifeless body on the operating table. "And your mother may be facing charges for murder if he doesn't pull through. It's okay to not be okay,"</p>
<p>The idea of his mother going to jail for something that he did turns his stomach to acid. Even if Martin survives, assault with a deadly weapon charges may still be on the table. He needs to go get this straightened out before any formal charges are filed.</p>
<p><em>Perhaps we can establish a schedule, hmm? You'll visit your mother in prison on Tuesdays, and pop in to see dear old dad on Sundays. I'm sure you can find a way to explain to your new friends at the NYPD why they ought to continue working with someone whose parents are both in jail for violent crimes, hmm?</em> Martin is wearing that faux-thoughtful expression that always sets Malcolm on edge, skin tingling like a thousand ants crawling over him.</p>
<p>"Look, Bright," Gil huffs out a breath, tearing Malcolm's gaze from the hallucination that's staring at him like a specimen ready to be dissected. "I know you always have a reason for your actions, and I trust you, kid. I do. But things are going to happen quickly with how high-profile this case was. If you and Jess have some sort of card in your back pocket, now's the time to play it."</p>
<p>Malcolm stares at Gil in disbelief.</p>
<p>He knows.</p>
<p>The deep lines creasing his face, the weary slump of his posture, the way he's looking at Malcolm like he knows he's done something terrible but forgives him regardless...Malcolm has no doubt Gil knows who really stabbed Martin.</p>
<p>"A formal investigation will be opened in the morning," Gil scrubs a hand over his face, defeat settling on his features. "It's out of my hands. Whatever you two are planning, you need to find a good lawyer. Now."</p>
<p>Gil brings his hand back up to Malcolm's neck, the comforting touch helping to ground Malcolm in the here and now. Malcolm does his best to smile reassuringly at Gil, but even he can tell that he doesn't quite hit the mark.</p>
<p>"See you in the morning, kid." Gil gives his neck one last squeeze before he turns and makes his way from the room, leaving Malcolm alone, waiting to see whether or not he's just killed his father.</p>
<p><em>All these years you've been fighting it, but it looks like I was right all along. We're the same.</em> Even as a hallucination, Martin needs to get the last word in. When Malcolm looks up from the surgery below, the hallucination is gone.</p>
<p>He tries to ignore the fact that a part of him misses his father's presence.</p>
<p>Instead, he watches as the surgeon sews up his father's heart and tries to convince himself that the only reason he cares is because of the sentence that he (or Jessica) will face for stabbing him. Tries to convince himself that he doesn't love the monster lying on that table. Tries to convince himself that Martin is wrong and they're nothing alike.</p>
<p>He knows he needs to go, needs to speak with his mother and decide what their next steps should be, but he can't seem to pull himself from the room. Not until he knows if his father is going to live or die. </p>
<p>Not until he knows if his father was right all along.</p>
<p>Not until he knows if he truly is Martin's prodigal son.</p>
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